


I Think I Have a Thing for Your Teeth

by thenakednymph



Series: Brawler [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blow Jobs, Christ Keith, Getting Together, Groping, Keith is Horny on main, M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Blow Jobs, blow jobs in the hall, but not much of it, fight me, god it's been a hot second since I last wrote and or posted porn, keith has a biting kink, so much groping, the boy is THIRSTY, they're both switches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 11:57:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18940453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenakednymph/pseuds/thenakednymph
Summary: Ever since the incident with the pods and Keith patching Lance up in the medbay, he's had a thing for Lance's teeth.~The smut I promised.





	I Think I Have a Thing for Your Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> This could probably use one more pass for cleanup but whatever. If you find any spelling errors please let me know so I can fix them. Nothing breaks immersion more than a spelling SNAFU.

Keith can’t stop thinking about Lance’s teeth even weeks later; finds himself staring at his mouth at odd moments and for longer than he should. It’s turning into a problem. Especially because Lance is starting to notice.

“What?”

Keith’s eyes dart up as he realizes he’s doing it again, staring, and has to force his eyes away from Lance’s mouth.

“Nothing.”

Lance frowns, drawing to a stop in the middle of the hall and turning towards him. Keith realizes it's become a thing and they’re very much about to talk about it. He groans internally and wishes he could just control himself.

“It’s not nothing. You’ve been staring at me since that stint with the pods going down.” He very carefully doesn’t mention the odd intimacy that’s developed between them. Probably because neither of them know what to do about it, too afraid of falling back to try moving forward.

Lance crosses his arms over his chest. “Now what is it?”

Keith’s hand flexes at his side, eyes locked on Lance’s mouth and damn it all if they’re doing this he’s going the whole nine yards.

He swallows thickly and steps closer, eyes fixated boldly on Lance’s mouth again. He raises his hand without thinking and presses his thumb over the swell of Lance’s lower lip, his teeth peeking out behind it and someone’s breath trips. Keith isn’t sure if it’s his or Lance’s and is too caught up in the flash of teeth and the rosebud pink of Lance’s lips to look up.

Keith had never expected such violence from Lance and now that he’s seen it and the bloody aftermath, he can’t stop thinking about it; about the blood in Lance’s mouth, the wrath between his teeth. Keith is mystified that so much of that rage came from a mouth he so often knew was filled with laughter and smiles, silly jokes and such tenderness, softness. He can’t make the two truths line up. Especially after seeing the corpse in the pod room, the blood on Lance’s face. It feels like a dream.

It’s even harder to believe Lance had unleashed that rage in Keith’s defense. Both times.

He can’t stop wondering if that violence will bite him if he reaches out to touch it, or if it will meet him with something so much more tender and vulnerable like it had after.

“Why did you…” He trails off, thumb still resting on Lance’s lip, eyes on the sliver of his teeth he can see. Keith doesn’t know what he’s asking. Why did Lance do what he did? How did he have the willpower for it? Why Keith? He’s not sure.

Lance seems to understand what Keith is trying to ask anyway.

“It’s all I had,” he whispers, Keith’s thumb slipping from his mouth but Keith’s hand doesn’t fall away, curling softly against his chin. “That soldier...he was going to kill me,” Lance goes on, watching Keith. “And he was going to take you. I could see it in his eyes.” Keith finally looks up, thumb stroking idly under Lance’s mouth.

“He was stronger and faster than me, with claws and teeth and I was cornered in the pod room without my armor or my bayard or you or anyone else.” He holds Keith’s gaze as he speaks, the words slow and quiet, barely any space between them.

“I didn’t have anything except for what I was born with.” Lance shrugs and his eyes slide away, Keith’s hand still holding his chin.

“I don’t think I would have thought of that.”

“What? Ripping his throat out with your teeth?” The words have more bite to them than Lance means, but it’s turned inward towards himself instead of at Keith.

He presses his hands into his pockets and gags remembering it, the pressure just before the Galran’s flesh popped and blood filled his mouth, making him shiver.

“I hope you never have to.” He chokes on the words as much as the memory. “It’s not fun.” He drags a hand over his eyes, blinking away the burning he feels threatening to turn into tears. “God I’m going to have nightmares about that for months,” he mutters, his shoulders shivering again. “I know it’s all in my head but I’m never going to be able to get that taste out of my mouth.” He swallows thickly, fighting back the urge to be sick.

Keith’s hand hovers against Lance’s chin, eyes back on his mouth, thumb stroking idly back and forth.

“Have you tried chasing it out?” His eyes flick up to Lance’s and Lance watches him, expression wary but warming, something in his eyes asking questions and finding answers in whatever expression Keith is wearing.

Keith hears Lance’s breathing shallow and his thumb arcs up under Lance’s lower lip again, just under the fullest part of it, savoring it when Lance shivers in something other than fear.

“Like what?” he whispers. “Nothing’s worked.”

Keith stares at him, anticipation sparking in his gut, waiting for Lance to pull away at the answer he knows is in his eyes and the suggestive press of his thumb to Lance’s lip. He’s wanted to kiss Lance for real ever since that night where his lips had brushed over the bruises and scars, trying to comfort, has barely been able to stop thinking about it.

When Lance doesn’t pull away, temptation overwhelms Keith and he takes that shuffling half-step closer, moving further into Lance’s space. His breath catches on Lance’s lips, waiting for just a beat, giving him the chance to pull away. Lance’s eyes drift shut between one breath and the next and Keith smiles before tipping his head and kissing him.

He catches Lance’s upper lip between his own, one hand touching his waist and Lance hums, sighing deeply, sinking into it.

Keith pulls Lance’s lip into his mouth flicks at the slick underside of it with his tongue curiously, wanting more, wanting to see how Lance will respond. He feels it when Lance shivers again, harder this time, pressing into him and a smile flicks over Keith’s lips, barely restrained.

The kiss is seeking, leading, asking permission, not willing to take what isn’t offered, not yet, but it’s a hard battle. Keith wants more. He wants teeth.

Lance’s fingers rest featherlight on Keith’s jaw and Keith lets the moment linger before breaking the kiss, his body wound tight with the desire to keep from shoving Lance into the wall.

Lance’s breaths are shallow and rapid and his hands hang in the air like he’s forgotten what he was doing with them, a breath away from touching as Keith pulls away.

“Still taste blood?” Keith whispers, heart turning sideways when Lance doesn’t open his eyes immediately, lips still slightly parted, hand grazing Keith’s cheek as it finishes whatever path it had been on before.

His lashes flutter and open, his gaze meeting Keith’s through half-lidded eyes, still far sadder than Keith wants.

“Yeah.” His voice is breathy with want, the faintest pressure against Keith’s cheek tying to draw him back in.

Keith tilts his chin up, forehead brushing Lance’s as he takes his face gently in his hands, pulling him closer and Lance’s hands fall to his waist.

“Then open your mouth.”

He kisses Lance again and this time Lance opens against him, Keith’s tongue slipping past his lips and stroking over his teeth like he wants. He’s chasing the ghost of the blood Lance says is there but only finds the sweetness of Lance’s tongue, the warmth of his mouth. It doesn’t stop Keith from looking.

He tilts his head, licking past Lance’s teeth to suck on his tongue before flicking over the sharp points of his canines with a pleased little noise.

Lance is soft and pliant in a way Keith didn’t know he could be but it doesn’t take long for him to challenge Keith’s lead.

He nips at Keith’s lower lip, startling him and Keith groans as he does it again, fingers tightening in Lance’s hair. Lance swallows the sound and the startled gasp Keith makes, his body shuddering, beginning to press him backwards. Keith hits the wall with a groan, fingers pulling at Lance’s jacket, yanking him closer.

Lance does it again, slower this time, dragging his teeth over the plush tenderness of Keith’s lip almost hard enough to hurt before pulling away.

“Beginning to think you have a thing for my teeth,” he says softly, their lips catching as he speaks. He lifts his chin, tongue flicking out to briefly touch Keith’s lips and Keith chases him without realizing it but Lance doesn’t want to be caught, not yet.

“Maybe,” Keith admits, hands still holding Lance’s jacket firmly.

“That or you have a biting kink.” Keith can feel him grin and opens his eyes to scowl.

“If you don’t shut up and kiss me again I’m going to bite _you_ ,” he threatens, his grip tightening.

Lance parts his lips, baring his teeth and makes a small huffing noise, leaning in and snapping his teeth sharply a breath away from Keith's cheek making him shiver, breath hitching as he does it.

Lance grins, nosing up under Keith’s jaw with a satisfied hum. “Mmm, biting kink.”

Keith pinches him and Lance squeals, darting away but Keith pulls him back in to his chest before he can run now that he has him where he wants him.

“Yes okay, I think I have a thing for your teeth,” he snaps, dropping a kiss on Lance’s jaw. “And your lips.” Kisses his cheek. “And maybe your whole mouth.” Another kiss to the corner of his mouth. He looks up. “And maybe you.” He’s frightened by the vulnerability of that statement but Lance only presses closer, one knee pressing between Keith’s.

“Maybe’s not a yes.”

Keith smiles, remembering one of their earlier conversations in the medbay when Keith was patching him up. “It’s not a no either.”

He studies Lance’s face for a moment before stretching up to press a kiss to his eyebrow, both cheeks, the lower corner of one lip and the opposite of the other, paying special attention to each of them. When he pulls back Lance is staring at him owlishly, startled but not put off by the sudden attention.

“What was that for?” His head tilts curiously.

“I never thanked you.”

Instead of clearing things up Lance seems more confused and Keith smiles. He strokes his thumb over one of the small scars he’d just kissed.

“You got those protecting me.”

Lance reaches up, searching out the little divot high on his cheekbone Keith is touching and the other one beside it.

“I didn’t realize they’d scarred.” His voice is faint and there’s something almost like disappointment in his eyes. Keith pulls his hand away and kisses each of them again, lingering on the ones around his lips. They’re somehow sweeter than the rest.

It takes Lance a moment to open his eyes after, dizzy under the affection. He hadn’t realized his eyes had closed.

“Okay,” he breathes, his head spinning. “I don’t hate them.” Keith smiles. “Especially not if it means you’re going to keep doing that.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to keep doing it.”

Lance flushes prettily and looks at Keith with something like awe, reaching up to touch his face, looking softer than Keith has ever seen him.

“What?”

Lance smiles, leaning in and kissing him. “Nothing.” He pauses, his nose brushing along Keith’s. “Just nice to be wanted,” he admits, tucking Keith’s unruly hair behind his ear so he can see his face, then pressing their foreheads together.

He can feel Keith’s cheeks warm and doesn’t have to open his eyes to know he’s blushing. He leans forward, letting just a little of his weight rest against Keith.

“I do,” Keith whispers, fingers flexing just slightly against Lance’s waist, like he’s afraid Lance will run at the admission. “In whatever aspect you want to give me.” Keith presses gently back.

Lance gasps dramatically, startling back.

“Keith! Are you saying you want a friends with benefits relationship?” He slaps a hand to his chest dramatically, cheeks still flushed prettily.

Keith snacks him, his face burning. “No you _ass_ I’m saying I want a _relationship.”_

Lance sobers, staring at him, the hand over his heart falling away. “Really?”

Keith nods, mortified, unable to find the words and Lance can’t breathe.

“You-” He searches Keith’s face finding only embarrassment. “You really want _me?_ ” He says it like he can’t believe it and Keith snaps.

“Yes you ass! I want _you_. I’ve wanted you for months now and I haven’t been exactly subtle.”

Lance just continues to stare at him and Keith groans in frustration, grabbing him and yanking him into a kiss nowhere near as sweet as the first one, sinking his teeth into Lance’s lip hard enough to hurt. Lance makes a startled noise before bending weakly under the force of it, Keith licking into his mouth again, tongue sliding against Lance’s before stroking over the roof of his mouth, sucking on his teeth.

He pulls away with a wet pop, glaring at him, cheeks flushed.

“Believe me now?”

Lance is breathing hard, eyes dark and hungry.

“No.”

Keith grabs a fistfull of Lance’s shirt at his hips, dragging their bodies flush without breaking eye contact, knowing Lance can feel his growing arousal.

“How about now?” he breathes.

Lance stares at him intently, resting his weight more firmly into Keith, one arm braced on the wall by Keith’s head.

“Think I’m starting to get the picture,” he says faintly.

“Good.” He kisses him again and Lance grabs a fistful of his hair to keep him from controlling the kiss.

Keith makes a noise in the back of his throat, frustrated and angry but Lance is having none of it. He kisses Keith like he’s starving, long and deep, pressing him into the cold steel and rolling his hips. Keith groans, hands falling to Lance’s hips to get him to do it again.

Lance breaks the kiss to work his way down Keith’s throat. He pulls at the sensitive skin, drawing it into his mouth until Keith is squirming beneath him but Lance wants him to be still. He sinks his teeth into the side of Keith’s neck, slowly applying pressure and twisting the hand in his hair until Keith gets the memo and stops moving, breath hitching on a whine.

His hands flutter in the air, eyes squeezed shut, a thready keen rising from his open mouth but he holds still, head still craned back and baring his throat. His mind is caught between the memory of the dead soldier in the pod room, the blood between Lance’s teeth, and those teeth on his throat.

He shakes, painfully hard, but he doesn’t move.

Lance hums appreciatively, letting go and smoothing his tongue over the indents he’s left behind, the fingers in Keith’s hair loosening to pet him.

“Mm, good boy,” he whispers.

Keith moans, the sound only getting louder as Lance thrusts his hips, his hand sliding up under Keith’s shirt to touch him.

As the fabric bunches Keith twitches away from the cold steel of the wall against his hot skin.

Keith’s breath is shallow and rapid, fingers tight where they weave into Lance’s hair, needy little sounds falling from his lips as Lance grinds into him, still doing his best to stay still.

Lance pulls back, cupping Keith’s cheek. He’s flushed, skin damp with sweat, violent eyes dark and glassy when they struggle open to meet Lance’s. His lips are swollen, his hair a ruffled mess where Lance has run his fingers through it. He looks thoroughly debauched and Lance’s stomach flutters at the sight, that he was the one to do it.

The ring from Lance’s teeth on his throat is rapidly darkening and Lance bites his lip at the sight, cock twitching.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Keith shivers, a small noise escaping him, unable to form a coherent thought. Lance swoops back in to capture his mouth, kissing him senseless.

When Keith’s knees give way, Lance is there to catch him, dragging him up and pinning Keith to the wall, strong legs wrapped around his hips. He continues rocking into Keith slowly, lips dropping back to his neck, to that bite, working over it again and again until it’s painfully sensitive and Keith is squirming again.  

Keith’s fingers find their way back to Lance’s hair, holding him in place and Lance moves up under his jaw, leaving another to Keith’s sensitive skin. He keeps making those little sounds that Lance could fall in love with, whines and mewls and keens, desperate and needy and Lance can’t think.

He forces himself to stop with a shudder, hips stuttering as he finally pries his lips from Keith’s throat.

When he doesn’t start again Keith tugs on his hair with a whine, squirming in Lance’s hands again. His fingers curl reflexively into Keith’s ass, making them both groan as Keith tries to rock forward against Lance’s cock, needing friction.

“Stop...stop,” Lance gasps, his eyes squeezed shut with a shudder. He can’t stop the way his hips stutter forward at the pressure, at the heat radiating through Keith’s clothes.

“Keith, please...y-you have to stop.”

Lance opens his eyes as Keith makes a little mew of protest.

“No,” he whines, body still rolling where Lance holds him. “...don’t want to.” His head tips back against the wall and Lance carefully sets him down, forcing himself to let go and pressing shaking hands flat to the steel to keep from touching.

“Keith,” he groans, the word stretching in a way that makes Keith grin, revelling in the sound, the pure _want_ in it.

“We have to stop,” Lance whispers, letting his forehead drop to rest against Keith’s whose hands are starting to wander.

“Why?”

Lance shivers as Keith’s fingers skim over his chest, nails dragging at the fabric, raising goosebumps as they skip along his nipple and he leans in kissing the side of Lance’s throat in a way that makes his knees weak.

Lance struggles for his self-control but Keith’s hands and lips are terribly distracting. “B-because if we don’t…” His fingers curl into the steel. “I’m gonna fuck you right here against the wall,” he grinds out.

Keith’s fingers curl in Lance’s shirt and he tips his chin up, seeking a kiss.

“Would that be so bad?” he whispers and Lance groans, his head dropping weakly to Keith’s shoulder. His legs are shaking.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he gasps and Keith grins.

“Good.” He grabs Lance by the chin, yanking his head up and kisses him hard, demanding attention and Lance is weak. He gives in, leaning his weight back into Keith, pressing them together, one of Keith’s hands dropping to his ass, pulling him back against him like he wants.

“I don’t even have a condom on me,” Lance chokes, Keith’s hand sliding around to palm him through his jeans and Lance rocks shamelessly into it. “O-or lube.”

Keith doesn’t seem to care and reaches for Lance’s belt, pulling it loose, popping the button without looking and slipping his hand into Lance’s pants.

Lance shoves a hand into Keith’s chest, pushing him away.

“No, nope. We are not doing this here.” With Keith’s hand pressing over his cock it’s hard to think.

Keith leans in toward him as close as he can, curling his fingers just so and Lance whines, the arm holding him back shaking.

“Coward,” Keith breathes, eyes flinty and dark.

Lance catches his jaw, forcing him back sharply, the back of his head cracking against the wall and he scowls. Keith lets his mouth drop open under the pressure of Lance’s fingers on his cheeks, blatantly suggestive, breathing heavily.

“You are the goddamn devil,” Lance snaps, glaring at him even as his cock twitches.

Keith flicks his tongue out, barely catching the delicate webbing between Lance’s thumb and finger. He’s flushed and sweaty and rumpled and looking good enough to eat.

Even with Lance holding him there Keith reaches out, tugging on Lance’s jeans and dragging them down his hips until he can fully wrap his hand around Lance’s cock, stroking him. He never breaks eye contact.

He presses his thumb up under the head and Lance’s eyes roll, his fingers going slack. His arm gives way and he sags weakly.

Before he can stop him Keith has slipped loose, dropping to his knees and yanking Lance’s jeans and boxers down his legs.

“Don’t-” Lance warns, fingers in Keith’s hair to try and stop him but Keith is already swallowing him in one fell swoop and the protest turns into a cry.

Lance’s hips snap forward without meaning to, burying himself in the wet heat of Keith’s mouth, hands weak in Keith’s hair and it’s a struggle not to fuck his mouth. That damn clever mouth Lance can feel smiling as Keith bobs his head, pulling off to stroke Lance’s cock, lips and tongue working over the head as he does.

Lance bows forward over him, hands slipping to Keith’s shoulders to stay upright, the fingers of Keith’s other hand pressing up behind Lance’s balls.

When he cums Keith brings him down the back of his throat, swallowing around him until Lance is spent and shivering, barely managing to stand.

Keith pulls away, licking at the head, a string of saliva snapping and he wipes at his mouth looking smug and satisfied.

Lance sways, trying to collect his balance but his feet tangle in his jeans where they’re still around his ankles and he falls to the floor in a heap.

“Devil man,” he gasps, not bothering to get up, just lying flat on the floor, arms and legs akimbo, jeans tangled around his feet.

Keith smirks, looking far too pleased with himself and carefully pulls Lance’s boxers back up, tucking him inside. He pulls his jeans up as best he can, pushing at Lance’s shirt so he can drop kisses over his stomach.

He works his way up Lance’s body, slow and methodical, taking his time as if there’s no chance of them getting caught, laving attention over his skin. Lance’s chest heaves beneath him and Keith is once again very pleased with himself. He kisses Lance’s throat, his jaw, stopping to whisper right in his ear.

“I like the way you taste.”

Lance whines, back arching off the floor for a moment before he turns his head, grabbing Keith by the hair and kissing him, licking into his mouth to taste himself.

Keith shivers, letting his tongue dart forward to slide against Lance’s, terribly turned on by that. No one has ever done that to him after he’d given them head. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is but when Lance reaches out to palm him through his jeans, tongue still in his mouth, sucking at his teeth Keith’s hips stutter and he’s cumming with a cry.

“The devil,” Lance whispers.

Keith groans. “These are my favorite jeans.”

“Serves you right,” Lance scolds, nipping at Keith’s lips.

Keith opens his eyes and Lance is once again struck by how beautiful they are, caught up in them for a moment and just staring.

“Guess you’ll just have to bathe me then,” Keith snips back.

Lance brushes Keith’s tangled hair back from his face, a riotous tangle.

“God you have the best worst sex hair.” He lets the mop of black hair fall, kissing him again before struggling to sit up. “Come on, we should go before someone comes around and asks why we smell like sex.”

Keith helps him stand, leading Lance to the showers where Lance does indeed help him wash off.


End file.
